


Homesick

by PlushRabbit



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Homesickness, Late night talks, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:27:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26005681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlushRabbit/pseuds/PlushRabbit
Summary: The one where MC is homesick and has a late night talk with Mammon.
Relationships: Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!) & Reader, Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 121





	Homesick

There is much to say about living in the Kingdom of Devildom when you’re a human. It makes your stomach churn and twist with sickness when all other forms of demons look at you as a delicacy, a rare dish that walks around unarmed, only protected by the glares of Lucifer and the brothers who have grown attached to you. You walk around, accompanied by a brother, an angel or often the other human but they all hold a form of power- they’re not vulnerable like you, not naive like you and always keep themselves guarded because they can. They can protect themselves and you cannot. No matter how many times you’ve bared your teeth in the human world, how tightly you formed a fist and how you spat words of poison at others, you know you could never take on a demon, no matter how weak they were. Your bared teeth will be met with sharper, deadlier teeth, your fists with talons as sharp as the blade of a knife, your words would mean nothing when they could so easily open their mouths and take a bite.

Devildom is beautiful. Festivals that hold glowing lanterns and bubble blowers that send out bubbles that are enchanted to swim through the air. Bright stars that shine in the night with falling stars that never seem to touch the ground. There's no sun, only a dark night sky painted onto the sky above, stars that twinkle and shine and you’re unsure if it’s an illusion or if Devildom really does have stars. Air that sometimes feels too stuffy, reminding you that you don’t belong here. Places that you are unable to travel to alone lest you get taken, gobbled up like you’re the last sweet on the plate. Demons who sneer at you and flash their fangs to frighten you. Brothers that are so nice that you often forget who they are until they laugh off a past torture, brothers who appear to be human until they get angry and show their true selves. 

It’s all so new to you. You don’t know how to handle it. You sleep in the night, protected by covers and the deep breathing of the brothers who lay dormant but you're aware of the power they truly hold, you've been on the receiving end far too many times that you have begun to wonder if you have a subconscious death wish. You sleep and wonder if they can hear it when you move on the bed, when you hum yourself a song from home, tears that slide down and wet your pillow. 

Days are easy here. You chat and laugh, are hugged and praised by demons who you've become to see as friends. You sit together at night and let them hold onto you as you start to doze off. You hug them and hold their hands, ruffle their hair and eat breakfast at the same table. 

Days are hard. You want to hide and curl in on yourself when others stare at you. You cover your arms when nails dig too far into your skin and scar you. You cry in the shower when you remember the people you love who aren't with you. You try to remember the warmth of the sun and the smell of rain when it all feels too empty in your room. You avoid the gaze of the brothers when you wake up with red and puffy eyes, too ashamed to admit that you fell asleep crying.

-  
"Do you miss it?" He asks, his voice quiet and hesitant.

"Yeah." You let the word hang in the air and he waits for you to speak. "Some days it's really hard. Today was a hard day." Your eyes flutter close and your hand ghosts above your side. "I like it here, I really do but sometimes I just miss… things. I miss the sun. I miss my family. I miss my friends. I miss the food." Your voice cracks and you stop speaking, your eyebrows knit and eyes scrunch up before relaxing, the tears are blinked back.

His hand scratches at his thigh. "Are we not enough for you?" He hesitates and swallows his nerves down. There’s an underlying question to that, the real thing he wants to ask is obvious but even you know that it will hurt for him to admit it, to voice the words out loud, "Am I not enough for you?" 

"Mammon," you start, opening your eyes and trying to find his in the dark.

"I know we ain't exactly your family but I thought-" 

"Mammon, no." You rise from the bed, sitting in a criss-crossed fashion. "That's not it. It's different. I feel weird here. Like I don't know if it's acceptable for me to ask you for a hug or to just lean on you during a movie. I don't know if I can go to you when I feel nervous." It all comes out in one breath, your voice uncertain, pitiful and lost. There’s much more for you to say, words that you want to spill until you’re clinging onto him like a child, but you refrain, you bite your tongue and voice the trivial things.

He's silent for a while, the only sound that comes from him is his deep breathing. In the silence you realize that his breathing is deeper than yours, a low rumble deep in his chest, a deep vibration that fills your ears and you’re positive that if you were touching his chest, you’d feel it under your fingertips. 

His hands reach over to grab yours, his hand is soft- long, nimble fingers soothe over your knuckles, resting over the hand that is palm up, his fingers rubbing softly over your skin. 

His cooing has stopped, now replaced by a low whimper when you interlace your hand with his, squeezing it tight with full acceptance. “You can always ask for a hug,” he whispers, his voice hoarse and skittish, hands holding tight onto yours as he opens his eyes, azure colored eyes shine brightly in the dark and you wonder if he can see you in the dark just as well as he can see you in the light. “Of course you would want to hug The Great Mammon,” his voice raises in pitch, a sharp smile that is tugged to wide as he looks away from you. 

You scoff and roll your eyes, a wistful smile on your face as you sit up in bed raising to stand on your knees, your hand leaving his and you can hear his breath hitch, nails tickling your palm and fingers curling around yours but get shaken off. 

“Can I have a hug Mammon?” You ask, opening your arms.

He sputters for a second, his voice breathy and tone tense as he tells you of course, but only because you’re his and he has to take care of his things. He shifts in bed, standing on his knees and inching his way closer to you, arms spread and a face- that even in the dark- you can tell has taken on a different shade. His hands are stiff as they rest on your back, fingers jerking before coming to a still, hands splayed on you and he’s still. 

“Mammon?” You call to him, arms holding onto his shoulders as you pull yourself away from him.

His hands fall back to his side and you can hear the dejected tone in his voice, “What?”

You take a deep breath. “Hug me tighter, please?”

In the dark, he nods, and you’re close to him again, face buried in his shoulder and hands pulling on his nightshirt, trying to press him closer to you, desperate for the warmth of another being. 

He takes a second to relax into your touch- still and rigid, with hands that he has to hover above you or else you’d feel his shaking. But then you nuzzle into him, burying yourself deeper into him and he breaks. His arms wrap tight around you, always cautious of his strength, with hands that clutch your shirt, bundling it up in his hands, and he takes a shaky breath. He wants to pull you closer, he wants the hug to remind you, to show you, that he cares for you even if he can never find the right words, even when he says the wrong thing and misses his chance with you. You’re being vulnerable with him and if he can’t say the words to you, he’s going to show them to you, he’s going to do whatever you want as long as it proves what you mean to him. He hugs you tight, wanting to feel your body against his, wanting this moment of intimacy and trust to last forever.

“Days are hard here,” you mumble, thumbs rubbing along his back, “like really hard.” His hands loosen and scratch lightly at your back through your shirt. “You know, in the human world, there’s this thing called seasonal depression where you’re more likely to get depressed during winter cause of the lack of sun and all and sometimes I don’t mind not having the sun, but other times, I miss it.”

“I’ll take you to the human world someday soon. Promise.” He’d bottle the sun if he could, bottle the warmth and give it to you in a heartbeat. He’d move the sun into Devildom if he could. He’d do it all for you.

“‘Mon,” you whisper, sniffling and pulling away to look at him, hands moving to rest on his shoulders. “I wanna," the words are hard to say, you're both so different and so similar when it comes to the physical aspect of your relationship, "I- Can we cuddle?" 

He's glad you can't see him as well as he can see you. He can feel his cheeks flare, the tips of his ears burning hot and making him squirm. It's a silent answer that he gives you, the bed squeaking softly underneath as you two get comfortable, wrapping his arms around you and running his hands through your hair. He presses his lips against the crown of your head, it's a soft kiss that makes him want more, that makes him want to bury his head into you and lay there forever., to press his lips against yours and memorize the feel and taste. 

The silence fills the room is a gentle cover. The only thing he can hear is your breathing. Soft and even, the only indication that you're awake is how your fingertips rub his chest in slow circles. 

To him, this is better than the Celestial Realm will ever be. He didn't have you there. He didn't have your smiles, your gentle touch, your kind words. You weren't there. But you're here. You're a human and you're cuddled against the Avatar of Greed, putting your entire trust in his hands, giving him far more value than he thinks he's worth. 

If he could, he'd never let you go. He'd hold you in his arms forever. He'd make sure that you were at his side at all times, always protected and safe. He doesn't know what he would do if you got hurt. He can't bring himself to think about it.

"Mammon, is it okay if I ask you something personal?" Your voice is gentle, a whisper that breaks the silence and he's giving you his full attention.

"Go ahead," he replies. 

You lick your lips. "Do you remember the Celestial Realm?" 

He's silent for a moment. "Sometimes."

"Do you miss it?"

His Adam's apple bobs in his throat. "I miss the things." He smiles when you snort. "It was nice up there. Bright and stuff. The food was really good. Melted right in your mouth. Lemme tell you- the demons around these parts won't ever admit it but I'm positive they'd sell an arm and a leg for a chance of Angel's food."

"It'd be a good business to get in with Luke." 

"Nah. I tried. Luke didn't like the deal I proposed."

"Which was?"

"Eighty-five, fifteen."

"Let me guess, you get the eighty-five and he gets the fifteen."

"You see! You get me!"

You giggle and nuzzle into his chest. "Sh, Lucifer might hear and then we'd never hear the end of it."

"Shit. Right."

It's silent again. 

"You know if the human world, we have things called angel and devil food. I think they're cakes or something."

"A cheap attempt at the real thing." You hear something in his voice. Defensiveness? "You've had devil food. You tell me if it tastes the same."

"Yeah, you're right. Devil food in the human world is a lot better." You feel his hand lightly thwap at your back.

"You think we should sell some of the human delicacies? There's a place here that sells human food but it ain't the same right?"

You smile at the "we". "It's been a while since I've had actual human food but nah. It's different. Like you said, a cheap attempt." You chuckle. You shift, his arms hovering above you to allow yourself to get comfortable, only to lower and hold you close. Your eyes begin to droop and body sinks into the demon underneath you. “We had all these kinds of delicacies and snacks. Even thinking about it makes my mouth water.”

There’s a long pause in between your words, you’ve almost fallen asleep when his voice cuts through the silence. "Sometimes I miss the Celestial Realm." His voice is hardly above a whisper. "It was nice up there. Weather was always good and stuff." His grip around you tightens. "Here is good. I can do whatever I want here-" 

"As long as Lucifer doesn't catch you," you mumble, forcing yourself to stay awake.

"Tch. Minor detail." His hand waves off your comment, placing it back down on you. "It's nice here. Only shitty thing is all the pacts. Everyone wants a taste of Greed."

"Being in a pact is a bad thing?" You whisper with furrowed eyebrows and the feeling of guilt inside of you.

He's quick to fix his mistake. "You aren't so bad. You hardly do anything even if you do have control over me." Your power over him has nothing to do with the pack. "It ain't so bad most of the time."

"I like being in a pack with you." You rub your hands over his sides in slow, lazy circles. “You’re my first.”

“Damn right I am,” his hands press you closer to him. “Good to know you finally understand that.”

There is no sun in Devildom, there is artificial light that does nothing to help when you want to curl in on yourself and beg for a moment of happiness only to rest for hours on end. But there is moonlight and the light from the stars which when cast upon makes everything appear divine. It makes the demons appear holy, your eyes wide and face flushed as you bask in their glory, feeling unworthy standing next to something so brilliant, feeling as if you’re tainting their light when you yourself are nothing like them, that you’ll never be even a fraction of their radiance.   
Right now, in the dead of night, with eyesight that is poor and bleary, you’re only awake to view the heavenly glow that seeps in through the blinds and covers the room in pearly, white light. With eyes that you try to keep open, Mammon lies in your bed asleep, with a glow casted upon his features. You forget that they are in fact demons, the most deadliest if you want to be accurate, but it often slips your mind that they were once celestial beings, that they were indeed untouchable and above you. He isn’t perfect by any means, he’s a demon after all, but with him asleep next to you, with strong hands on your body, lit up by the outside that had managed to enter your room, you remember that you’re allowed to touch him now, that he allows you to touch him and whisper words of praise and play with hair. 

You miss home. You miss your friends and family. You miss the food and the drinks. You miss the sun and the rain. But when you lie awake at night with the bothers smiling down at you, sometimes it gets easier to breathe. When you lie awake with the last bit of strength that you have, using it all to admire the Avatar of Greed, your heart doesn’t ache as it used to, it jumps and it flutters and you feel warm inside as you bury yourself closer to him, indulging in your own greed to just be near him until he awakes and flushes with a darker shade, stammering and praising himself and you. Until then, you’ll take what you have, the moment etched into your mind until all that you can remember is the way he hugged you and the softness of his voice.

**Author's Note:**

> I always felt like MC would miss home.


End file.
